Escape
by TheRevolutionIsInMyHands
Summary: They weren't yelling anymore. I didn't hear any more smashing. Ryan was probably outside, or driving with his buddies; he would probably forget all about it and come home to a wrecked house, a scared little sister, and a lot of blood.
1. Chapter 1: The Run

**One**

The worst part was probably done. They weren't yelling anymore. I didn't hear any more smashing. Ryan was probably outside, or driving with his buddies; he would probably forget all about it and come home to a wrecked house, a scared little sister, and a lot of blood. Maybe not. Their fighting was unpredictable. Ever since I was born, Ryan always told me that Dad shouted and hurt Mom. He didn't know why, he keeps saying. I bet that he's lying. People always lie to get out of something they don't want to do.

Finally, sound. Dad was dragging something across the carpet, something heavy. The rustle of fabric against the ground sent shivers down my back. The screen door slammed, and I peeked out from the closet. I could just see a tiny sliver of the room, but that was enough.

Blood(more than usual)stained the walls, and a shattered vase lay on the ground where the worst stains were. Jagged slices of crystal dotted the bare carpet, throwing red rays of light across the walls. One of them landed over my eye. I remembered looking through the vase when I was younger and less noticeable to my Dad. It was Mom's favorite, her Dad gave it to her, and now it was gone. I did notice one other thing, though: Mom wasn't on the couch crying, or on the floor sweeping up crystal like she should've been. Where was she?

The screen door slammed again. I silently shut the closet door and cowered in the corner of it, behind and umbrella, underneath a huge stack of jackets that fit nobody. My heart skipped a beat when the door opened, and relief flooded it as Ryan stood there.

"Nessa? Nessa, come out. Dad isn't here." He grabbed my arm and tugged three times gently, to let me know that it was him.

"Kay." I stumbled out from under the jackets and ran into Ryan's arms. "Ryan, what happened to Mom? She isn't here anymore." He held me tighter, and I could tell he was worried. He always shut his mouth when he was worried.

"I don't want to know." That scared me. Ryan usually said "I don't know", not "I don't _want_ to know". Why the sudden change? "Nessa, we'll get out of this. My eighteenth birthday's coming up soon, and we can leave. Just hang in there until then. Please." I nodded and jumped as I heard thumps outside. Dad was back.

"Nessa, hide. My room. Now!" I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, and shut the door quickly behind me. But now, a new dilemma. Where to hide? His bed was too low to the ground, he didn't have a very spacious closet, and the only thing left was behind the armchair. Then, when I noticed what a horrible hiding spot it was, I tried for the bed. Somehow, I fit. My hands stretched for the covers and pulled them down over my hiding spot. Dad came lumbering in a second later(I was sure he saw the covers rippling)Ryan protesting. He said nothing was in his room. That I probably snuck out and ran for it while he was gone. Dad gave up and went back out to the living room, but Ryan closed his door again and walked over to the bed. He moved it away from the wall just enough for me to fit through. I looked up at him.

"Ryan? When's your birthday again?"

"This weekend. Saturday, the nineteenth. It's going to be alright." He patted the space beside him and moved over while I crawled up. He opened the window. "Nice, fresh air."

It was cool today. I didn't blame Ryan for going away. I wanted to, also. Grass was spotted her and there(everywhere else in the trailer park was either dust or garbage. Literally)and the sky was blue. Wind raised up dust devils and spun them around.

"Thank you." I mumbled, looking down at the little flower Ryan leaned out and picked for me. "For everything."

"You're welcome," He smiled down at me, "For everything." He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"I knew it!" Dad bellowed, almost frothing from his mouth. "You were hiding her!" He ran over to us and shoved Ryan(the skinny fool)out of his way.

"Run, Nessa!" I did what I could, and jumped out the window.

Landing on hard-packed ground with no shoes stung my feet, but I wobbled and ran at the same time. Dad was stuck in between "do I chase after her" or "do I beat him first". It gave me enough time to round a pile of trash and climb over a broken school bus. I climbed through one of the smashed windows and hid under a torn seat.

It was forever(actually just three hours)until I heard him.

"Nessa? Come on." He peeked through the windows. I waved my hand at him. He pried the door open, closed it behind himself, and half-crawled-half-ran over to me. He grabbed me in a rib-breaking hug. "Nessa. . ."

"Ryan? I. . . I can't go back, can I?" The question didn't faze him.

"No, Nessa-kin. No. I don't want to lose you, you're my only little sister."

"Then. . . Can you tell me two things? If you really love me as much as you say you do?" He hugged me closer.

"Anything." He meant it.

"Where did Mom go?" Silence. "Ryan? Where did Mom go? _Tell me_."

"Heaven." I buried my face in his shoulder to stop my tears. He smelled like peppermint. "Dad smashed her Dad's vase over her head, and when she was down, he grabbed the biggest piece of glass and. . . and. . ."

"I know. I heard it all. But weren't you out driving?"

"Yeah, but I came back and saw the bad parts. Who knew, huh? He seemed so nice to me and Mom until she had you."

"That was the other thing I was going to ask. Why does he hate me and Mom?" Silence.

"Because you're a girl. He wanted only sons, and you're a daughter. He hated you for being there, and he hated Mom for giving you to him." I guess it couldn't be avoided. I was going to have to deal with this someday. I just had to deal with it earlier. . . I couldn't console myself a bit.

"Ryan? Where'll I stay? I can't go home!" I didn't cry. I just clung to him and prayed.

"You stay here. I'll bring you everything you need. Food, water, clothes, everything. Until Saturday. Then, I'm taking you with me." Where? "To live somewhere safer. I know someone who'll take us in because I can't pay for a house. Their name's the Guides'. They have two rooms for us all ready. I called them, and we're going to be safe." As if he could read my thoughts.

"Kay. I believe you, Ryan."

"Need anything?"

"Nope. Just stay with me. That's all I'm asking." Silence. Only this time, it was a comfortable silence that put me fast asleep.

Sunlight was filtering through the dirty windows of the broken bus when I woke up, and my back hurt like crazy. Ryan was laying down behind me, still snoring, when I heard the garbage truck dropping stuff off. My legs were cramped and it hurt to move, but it was better than being found by Dad. I woke up Ryan when his stomach growled so loudly I was surprised Dad didn't come running.

"Huh? What? Where am I? Oh." He sat up and scratched his head, then stretched on his back so(I'm guessing)no one could see his hands. I copied him.

"What day is it?" He counted on his fingers, yawning, until he remembered his cell phone was on his bed.

"I'll be right back with clothes and food and stuff. Dad's working today, because he was off yesterday." Oh, right. The "free day" we always had whenever Dad had to work. He came home yesterday and hurt Mom like he always did, only this time he hurt her until he _killed_ her. . . Yep. Consoling myself clearly didn't work.

"Vanessa Rae, you come out right this instant! I demand that you show yourself!" Oh, no. No, not now. Not _Dad_. Please God, if you ever listened to me, listen _now_! Not Dad! Please don't let it be Dad! "Vanessa Rae, now! I found you, little girl. You're going to pay for what you did to this family!" He burst through the doors and, screaming, launched himself at me. I ran towards him(it surprised him and he paused)and shoved him with all my weight into the seat. His hair got caught on a protruding spring out of the seat.

Once I'd left, he hadn't chased me. I ran around countless piles of trash and ducked into hiding spots. He never found me. But I bet he found Ryan.

Being overly(not in my opinion, if Dad found me he was going to kill me, too)cautious, I crept out from a tire and saw Ryan, two duffle bags on his arms, walking across the junkyard. It was night, and Dad probably went home.

"Ryan!" I hissed, looking around me to make sure no one else was there, "Ryan!" Ryan turned a little and looked at me, then grabbed me.

"Nessa, you have to stay hidden. Today is Saturday. We're going to the Guides' house now, I packed all of our things and we're leaving. But if Dad finds either me or you alone we're toast. If he finds you alone, you're dead. He's still out there, Nessa."

"So, what do we do? We can't travel alone, we can't travel together, how _can_ we travel?"

"I know a way out," He whispered and set out a map. "This is a map of the yard we were living in until now. Here," He pointed to a little oddly shaped square, "is where the trailer is. We're over this way, and I saw him over here a few minutes ago. He's probably still there. Looking. So, if I take the main paths through the rubble, you can follow me through the rubble itself. Got it?" His finger traced various paths across the map until it came to a criss-cross pattern around the yard.

"What's this?" I asked, pointing to it.

"The fence. Nessa, can you still jump and climb? I mean, after you have something to eat and drink. Though, we might not have much time to eat until we're at the bus station. . ."

"I've been jumping and running and climbing over things all day, Ryan. I think I can manage one little fence without a snack."

"This isn't an ordinary fence like around the trailer, Nessa. This is a high fence with barbed wire around it. If you're not careful ,you could get snagged, or seen, or something else."

"I can do this, Ryan. trust me. I've been out here for a whole day without anything, and I'm fine. Like I said, trust me. We don't have much time, Ryan. We have to leave. Now."

"You're right. I'll take this path around where he is now, where he won't see me, and you follow this path here until you meet me here. Where the broken stoplight is."

"Okay. . . Promise you won't get caught?"

"You promise _you _won't get caught?"

"Promise."

"Same here, let's go. I'll keep an eye on you, so don't go completely out of sight unless you see him from up there."

"Kay."

Climbing over trash _hurt_(especially if it was the sharp trash inside nearly melted bags that felt weird under your feet). Ryan was looking up at me, no Dad in sight. I saw the broken traffic light and climbed down slowly, landing behind a tire. Ryan followed my example and pointed out the fence.

"See?"

It was _huge_(at least twice as tall as Ryan, who was about a foot taller than me). It was chain-link, though. That would hurt my feet. The barbed wire would hurt more. There was a tiny street that we were probably going to run up.

"Ready," I said.

"Set," Ryan continued.

"Go." We finished.

I scrambled up the fence with my hands and feet flailing, no sight or sound of Dad, Ryan right behind me(weighed down by the duffle bags). I grabbed one when I reached the wire and threw it over. Ryan did the same and lifted one long leg over the wire, then the other. I had to get up higher to swing over, but I eventually dropped down and grabbed one of the bags. My arms caught a tiny portion of the wire, and it cut me. Just a little scratch.

Instead of running down the road to the left(the smaller one)we ran down the main road. So people could see us if we were kidnapped? Or just the way to the bus station?

The station had our bus leaving in ten minutes.

Ryan basically dragged me over to the bathrooms to change(aha, he grabbed the wrong bag and ended up with my clothes. I had the nerve to wear his so he was confused. . . His jeans are _way_ too big for me). We hopped on the bus after we ate something.

The Guides' house was small, but livable. I mean, it was bigger than the trailer, better than the floor of a bus or a half-melted trash bag. And(unbelievably)I liked it. There was a lawn with no bare spots, a backyard(with a dog that was barking)and hanging from a tree out front was this old little tire swing-thingy. I liked that, too.

Five people poured out of the door somehow(considering their girth). The tallest, a man, was probably the father. His hair line was receding, he was the skinniest one(apart from us)and had a smile that looked funny with his thick Grandma glasses. He had a weird mustache, too.

One of the women, feeding a baby, was definitely the mother. She was blond(like everyone else except me and Ryan)and her hair was short. She was wearing Mom jeans.

There was a boy, too. He was about Ryan's age. His hair was blondish brown, and he was the second thinnest in his family. His shoulders were broad, and he was smiling, too. He inherited everything from his Dad. He waved a little. Ryan made me wave back.

There were two other girls with scowls on their faces. They were both blond, in nightgowns, with green eyes that reminded me of snakes' eyes. They looked at their Mom and shuffled back a foot. They all walked forward, Ryan pushed me to them with a hand on my back. They were the hugest apart from their mother(who probably just had the baby).

"I know you don't want to meet them, but they're nice. Until I can pay for school and buy an apartment, this is your home. Out home." He whispered, holding me closer.

"This will _never_ be my home. I'll be home when I see Mom." The parents smiled even more and held out a hand. I didn't want to be rude, so I tucked myself into Ryan's side and shook hands with them.

"I'm Dan Guides. This is my wife, Ilene," The woman with the baby smiled and shook hands with me. The whispered "nice to meet you". The baby whimpered. "This," Dan continued, "Is my son Henry. And these two are my daughters Julie and Fran." Julie tossed her hair, and Fran(aha, her name's _Fran_)looked like she smelled something awful. She smelled awful, too. Shh! Don't tell her I thought that!

"Nice to, uh. . . _meet you_. . ." They said. I didn't care to smile back. I mean, she was so rude! Who in their right mind would smile back at them?

Ryan smiled and held out a hand. Oh, right. . . I said "who in their _right mind_" would do that. Ryan was clearly off his rocker(ha, I already think of him as old and he's barely eighteen). Fran tossed her hay-colored hair and went back inside, right on the heels of an identical Julie. I'm guessing Julie was older, though.

"See? Not so bad here, is it, Nessa?" _You have no idea how bad it's going to be_.

"Yep. You were right." I cut across the manicured lawn and entered the house, clinging to Ryan as if he was God or something.

The house actually looked shabbier(but definitely home-townie)inside. Everything was worn out and the first thing you walked into was a little room where everyone but me and Ryan kicked off their shoes. There were two windows with yellow curtains, and a doorway into the formal dining room(which actually didn't look formal at all).

The dining room was the center of the house. Brown walls, plaid tablecloth like on a picnic(well, what I would imagine a picnic blanket would look like). The chairs were ornate and looked like it would crumble if one of them sat down. They led us to the upper right corner to the living room, showed us the upstairs(that was the master suite, two bedrooms, and a bathroom).Ryan was sharing a room with Henry. I got a room on a different floor. The "girls'" room(which is what they called Julie and Fran)was the one farthest to the left. Ryan and Henry's room was across from theirs. The master was the first door on the left, the bathroom was the second(only to a linen closet)to the right. It had wall to wall carpeting.

Once downstairs with Ryan and the parents(no girls or Henry)they pointed to a hallway to the far left of where we came in.

"Here's the downstairs full bathroom. It's yours, now, and there's another in the living room, so you can have this one all to yourself. It used to be a storage room, but I converted it into a working, modern bathroom with a separate shower and tub. It has one sink and a mirror. Then back there's the backyard." He pointed to a room nearly concealed behind a coat rack(he moved it into the little room with the shoes). A heavy white door was behind it. "This is your room. Take a look inside. You have all new furniture, and we have to wash all your clothes, so please give them to Ilene. I have to go mow the lawn." Work might get my mind off things. . .

"Hey," I squeaked, "Can I help you do some of the work? I mean, after I'm done unpacking and everything. . ." He looked surprised that I spoke. My voice sounded quiet and high-pitched compared to his.

"Yes. Yes, you can." He left us together(Ryan and me).

"So," He began, "What brought on this sudden urge to work?"

"Well, how much did I, _could I_, do when we were with Dad? I want to do something constructive, and I guess it starts by building some muscle and getting out of this house." I said, throwing the duffel bag with all my clothes and possessions(pretty sad isn't it that all my stuff fits in a bag. . . but useful for escaping)on _my_ bed. It was huge. A sleigh bed in a dark finish with these little awesome designs on it. It matched the dresser and the nightstand. My closet was too big for me(it was basically the size of my "room" back home. Funny how I think of that personal hell as home, huh? I smiled and flopped down on the sheets(which were awesome, too, all green and polka-dotted). My room had two picture windows with blinds, too. How much better could this get? Then, the snobs(who else? Fran and Julie)walked in after Ryan left for his room with his bag.

They were dressed in jeans that were way too tight for them, and those horrible shirts from Abercrombie and Fitch or Hollister that they wanted everyone to believe weren't slutty. Honestly! You had to buy two shirts to wear one! How fair was that? They walked over, hands on hips, as I squished my wardrobe into the laundry basket and ran it out to Ilene. I mumbled a thanks to her and went back to my room. I looked at myself in a mirror first.

My hair was kind of messy in a loose curl type of way down to my shoulder blades. My jeans were clean(kind of)and worn gray-white from the many years of wearing them. My shirt was neat enough to pass as a normal person, and I found shoes in that bag Ryan brought for me. I went into my room.

They were still standing there. Breathing. Just there. I looked at them, a little shy from their intense gazes.

". . ." Aren't I articulate? Well, normally I was around other people when I _knew_ them. I knew no one here, and that bothered me. Then, the thought of school hit me. Oh, God, if He hadn't abandoned me, please be there for me.

"Why are you even _here_?" Julie demanded throwing a look at me that said to leave. I stayed silent, my best instinct on how not to get into trouble, though I wanted to shout at her everything I'd been through. Sometimes instinct can help. But this question obviously required an answer. "Why, huh? Nobody wanted _you_. We only agreed to take in your brother, but my Mom went all soft on us and asked about you. He said he wouldn't move in without you, so you're here. Congrats. You just won yourself a trip to your own personal _hell_." Stay silent, Nessa. Silent. _Silent_.

"What's the matter? Going to _cry_? You would." Fran interrupted, "You may be in the same grade as us, but _we_ run that damn school. You are not to encroach on _our_ land." She sounded like an Indian, really. Who knew she could have the brain cells left to say "encroach"? Silent, Nessa! Shut your trap! Now! I shook my head. What she didn't know was what the how bad I could get to her if they hated me so much. But I wouldn't ruin my brother's chance at getting a better life for himself, who he would undoubtedly share with me. We could be happy together if only I could shut my mouth. . . Come on, you can do this! I told myself. I told it to myself over and over again until they smiled and let their hands down. "Glad you see it our way." Fran said, the snob. I smiled back with all the hate I could muster up at the moment in my eyes, in every single tooth that shone at them, in my clenched hands. My hands itched to slap them, my nails begging to scratch them, my legs wanting to kick them until they screamed. Obviously, I had a lot of hate in my life, but I channeled it into going outside and helping Dan.

The lawn out back was as neat and trimmed as the one out front. He just hopped off the mower and Ryan just appeared out of a window.

"Hey, Vanessa! All packed?" He yelled down at me. "I'll be right there!" Did he know something was wrong here? That I didn't like it as much as he'd(and I'd)hoped? I begged in my mind for that not to be the reason. I wanted him to be happy, no matter the cost to me. Anything was better than this. Especially to him. I remember how when I was little(since I never actually went to a school before, but Ryan talked about it all the time since he was six and joined the first grade)he used to take home all of his books and teach me and ask the teacher for two copies of everything. She never believed he would do it all, but I helped. Whenever he got a test back, he showed me the right answers. I'm as smart as him, because he started to get notes from the teacher, and bring home his books, and go over lessons with me. I was up to a high school senior's level now because of him. He never thought I would actually go to school. He even taught me how to read and write. Sometimes, the teacher would come home with him and they would teach me together. I remembered the shocked face of his Algebra teacher in eighth grade when I answered one of his hardest riddles correctly. I was smart beyond my years, he told me.

Ryan sauntered past Dan and held me close to him.

"Hey Dan? Can we take a walk? I kind of want a feel for the area. Don't worry," He said as Dan was about to object, "Vanessa here has a natural instinct that I would call otherworldly. I mean, sense of direction, danger, sight, smell, sound, everything! Sometimes I think she was born part wolf." He complemented, embarrassing me a little. I looked down and nudged him in the ribs.

"Stop it, Ryan. . ."

"What. . . ? Come on, let's go."

"Can you be back before eight-thirty tonight? Supper's going to be great tonight."

"Yeah, sure thing. I have my watch." And we walked down the road about a mile or two and came to this great little forest path. Further from home, but walk-able. I liked it.

"Ryan, can we walk in here?"

"Sure, Nessa." Something was nagging in the back of my mind, though. . .


	2. Chapter 2: The Tree House

DISCLAIMER: I do not own House

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I woke up in a white room. Okay, not just white. _Really_ white. It kind of reminded me of what heaven was supposed to look like. But the smell was too sterile and clean. Oh, God. I was in a Hospital. I looked to my right, and surely, and IV was stuck into my arm. My stomach churned. Where was Bumble-bee? Actually, what was her real name?

A dark-skinned man in a lab coat slid the door open and looked at a clipboard. Then, as if he just noticed I was awake, he smiled.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Foreman. You are. . . ?" Doctors weren't this nice to me, usually. They just stuck needles in me and said get out. Normally. Now, what was my name? Started with a C. . .

"I. . . I can't remember. I know it started with a C, but that guy just called me puppet or puppy, um. . . Can you help me think of my name? Just shout out random names that start with C."

"Candy? Carol? Candice? Cassie-"

"I remember! It was Cassie! My name's Cassie Watercress!" I offered the name to him, pleased at myself for remembering my own name. "I had a friend. . . Did she make it? Bumble-bee?"

"I'm sorry. Bumble-bee?"

"It was his name for her. I didn't know her real name." He sat down beside me.

"Was she blond with brown eyes? She keeps on asking for 'Puppet'."

"Yeah! What room? Come on, tell me! Take me there! I want to see her!" I got up. Foreman pushed me down again.

"Later. Let's see your chart. Branding, blunt force trauma, lacerations, and rope-burn?"

"Sounds about it. Now take me to Bumble-bee." He sighed and held my IV stand. Couldn't I just take it out?

We went down the hall and to the right, where Bumble-bee was being examined by another doctor, blond and a woman. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she wore almost the same lab coat that Foreman wore.

"Puppet! Oh, I thought I would never see you again! He got you with that knock-out stuff, huh? What was it like?"

"He injected you? With a needle?" Foreman asked.

"I'll tell you later. Oh, Bumble-bee! What's your real name?"

"Laurie Condor. What's yours?"

"I just remembered a minute ago. Cassie Watercress." We shook hands like we were meeting for the first time. Another doctor, also blond, walked in and found his colleagues in the same room.

"I have a few questions for the girls who got kidnapped. Why are you guys here?" His Australian accent was awesome! I couldn't stop listening. I kind of wanted to ask him to say more words.

"House got interested. He sent us down here to ask them the same questions while you were performing surgery, Chase." He didn't look surprised. "Don't you think we should ask them the questions then?" We laughed at their bickering.

"What's so funny?" Foreman asked.

"You guys. . . Bicker like old ladies!" I said between giggles. Foreman's beeper went off, and he went out the door. I sat down on Laurie's bed.

"Okay, so. . . What happened to you two?"

"Isn't that obvious? We got kidnapped." He sighed(which I kind of thought was adorable)and put down his clipboard.

"I _know_ that. I mean, did you two get kidnapped together? Or separately? What are your stories? This could help us release you earlier."

"Oh." I said, "Laurie, why don't you go first? I want to hear your story." She fidgeted slightly under her covers and looked at us.

"Alright. It was just after school, and I almost missed my bus. Um, I had a new driver, too. He dropped me off at the wrong stop, and everyone thought it was so funny and they were making faces at me through the windows.

"Then this car drove up, and it had the killer in it. I didn't know he was a killer, though. He asked where the school was, saying he was going to go pick up his daughter, and I saw her picture on the dashboard.

"Then he yanked me in and I was taken away." She finished while Chase was still scribbling on that piece of paper.

"Anything else happen?"

"No. Cassie kept me safe by taking all of the blame. For everything, though she _did _do everything. But she was such a hero to me. I could never be that brave to stand up to a bully at school, let alone a convicted felon." Chase nodded and looked at me.

"Oh! Yeah. It was the night of the last regular school dance at my middle school before the semi and graduation and all that. My 'friend' said that her mom would drive me home after, and that was the only reason that I could go. My stepmom was working until late that night, and my dad was in Maine.

"Then, when it was time to go at ten 'o clock after the dance, my 'friend' and her mom said that there wasn't any room left in the car for me. And there was still one seat left open, but they said it was for all their stuff for the sleepover they were going to have. Aren't they awful?

"Anyways, I had to walk two miles home. And then the car that Laurie mentioned drove up to me and said the same thing, about his kid. And then, I didn't even wonder why the kid's father didn't know where the school was. And He grabbed me and smashed me in the head with a glass bottle or something.

"I woke up in the trunk, all tied up, and when I spoke, he yelled at me and slammed on the brakes. It hurt because all that carpet stuff that lines the trunk had been stripped away, and the sudden stops made me fly into the metal. Then, when I was struggling to get my arm free, he smashed me over the head with another bottle.

"I woke up again in this dog kennel-thing. It hurt to move, but I freed one hand. Then he took this poker-thing and jabbed my cheek with it. And then he went away and brought back Laurie. I called nine-one-one when he was away, and I guess they got us because here we are." I finished. Chase looked dumfounded.

"I meant _medically_. What happened to your _body_?" Oh. Ha, ha. . . ? I just embarrassed myself bad in front of a guy. Nice work, Cassie!

"Nothing for me. He hit me over the head with a glass bottle and when I woke up, we were still driving. He didn't do anything to me. Well, not like Cassie." C'mon! Get yourself Cassie! I mentally scolded myself.

"Oh, yeah. Me." Nice move, _slick_. "He just injected me with this white stuff in a syringe. It knocked me out until a while ago. . ."

"That all, ladies?"

"Yep."

"Uh-huh." He stood up, smiled(which was completely gorgeous)and walked out.

CHASE POV

I walked out of the operation room, stripping off my gloves and mask, when my beeper went off. It read: get down to room 824 now. It was from House, and he was asking me to go to a patient's room?

As much as it surprised me, I went down anyways.

In the room was a young girl, I mean early teens young, sitting upright in a bed with Cameron checking her eyes. The girl had short blond hair about to her jaw line, and it was really frizzy. Her brown eyes were huge when they saw me.

"Cameron." I acknowledged her, "Who's this? House asked me to-"

"House asked _everybody_ to go see them. They're actually normal, so I don't see it. Only he knows what happened to them." Them?

"There's more than one?"

"Yeah," The girl squeaked, "Puppet. Where is she? I want to see puppet!" She started freaking out.

"Um, I'll go find this. . . _puppet_ of yours."

"She's here! She's here! I knew it, she's here!" Puppet? What was this girl doing with a puppet? I mean, she could've brushed her hair or something, right? If she had time to play with puppets. . .

I searched the bin with all the clothes and things in the basement, and no puppets. What was this girl talking about? I dug through even deeper.

"Hey, Sparky. Digging for your self-esteem?" House said behind me. I jumped.

"House!"

"Not the self-esteem, huh? Dignity? Self-respect? Am I getting hot or cold?"

"I'm looking for a damn puppet!" I didn't mean to yell, honestly. But House had this little way of getting under your skin. The parasite.

"Oh, you mean the 'puppet' the little girl named Laurie was looking for? She's in another room." Wait. A _puppet_ was in another room?

"House, I don't think-"

"Puppet is a girl! She's Laurie's-or Bumblebee's-friend. Odd names, huh? They were kidnapped, and hit over the head several times, and had a hard time remembering their names. But-oh, hold on for a second." House checked his pager, "Oh. The other girl's name is Cassie."

"I'd better get up there, then."

House didn't follow me. He stayed back.

When I was in the room again, a gorgeous(you know, gorgeous for a young person)girl sat on the bed beside Laurie. Cassie? She had light brown, curly hair down to her waist. She was very pale and too skinny. It looked like if I poked her, she would snap into a thousand pieces. Don't we feed them? God! I felt bad for taking the lord's name in vain.

Questioning was over, Foreman was at my side, walking to House's office.

"What did she tell you?"

"Nothing much help to us, but I'm suspecting Propofol. She said milky white, and it rendered her unconscious."

"Nice, but it could've been something else."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, ask House. He always has an answer for everything."


End file.
